For no reason other than the recent remembrance of a sweet occurrence, I would like to share something cute Baylee used to do.
At the end of 2015, we moved back into our Shamrock house which had been a rental so we could get the Raintree house ready to sell. Tye, Sam, and I had rooms, and Max and Baylee shared one, but that wasn’t good enough for the youngest boy.
Baylee, who was nine at the time, didn’t want to settle, so each night he would drag his twin mattress down the hallway towards whichever sleepover he wanted to go to that night. I suppose it had to do with who was in the better mood, his emotional state, or whether or not it was a school night.
Sometimes he would put his bed on Tye’s floor and watch sports until his eyes closed. Some nights I would hear a knock on the door across the hall which was Sammy’s room.
“Yeah?” Sammy said.
“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Baylee said.
“Yes, come in.”
Baylee would cram his twin mattress through the door, set up his pillow and blanket, and they would play PlayStation or watch shows while Gronk snored away.
He would sleep in the room he shared with Max on many weekend nights, the giggling finding its way down the hall to where I was. He would sleep in my room sometimes where we would watch Golden Girls, or even the living room which was central to everyone. For months, each night he slept somewhere different, and he slept well and peacefully.
To this day, Baylee can sleep pretty much anywhere just like his pops. Not me. I need a quiet, private room to sleep in.
Baylee’s nightly travels to his favorite sleeping places back in 2015 will be remembered by me as something I will miss when the kids are all grown and away. I can still hear his bare feet patting the wood floor and the soft knock on the door of his choice.
Once in a while it would be my door he knocked on for a sleepover. I will forever cherish talking to him about our future in Massachusetts and what I will pack for his school lunch the next day.
“Peanut butter and apple?”
“Sure,” I said.
The other day I said to the boys, “Remember when Baylee used to drag his mattress down the hall in Shamrock to have sleepovers?”
I received a collective “Oh yeah!” from the boys, which is why I write about our silly little family treasures, the memories that are beginning to fade. I’m locking them in and making them tangible before they dissipate into the dusty past.
Click here: 543